Daisy

by Greenwood, Leigh

  It had taken every bit of his courage to admit to Daisy he loved her. That had been the first break in his armor. No, before that when he wanted to make love with her. Before that when he kissed her. Maybe even before that when he marked off the corner for her or fed her or worried about her wound.

  Hell! This was no small break. His defenses were in complete disarray. They might have already collapsed, and he was such a fool he didn't even realize it. Yet somehow he couldn't summon the energy to care. He liked where he was, and he didn't want to do anything to change it.

  Of course it would change as soon as Daisy woke, or it became light, or anything else happened to break the spell that enveloped them. That was the trouble with becoming vulnerable. You were no longer in control of your own feelings.

  Still, he didn't move. He knew he had only to wake her to enjoy her again. Yet he hesitated. Things felt so good just as they were. He let his fingertips caress her skin. It was soft and warm. He'd never let himself enjoy a woman this way. He'd never wanted to before.

  You never cared for any of those faceless women, only the physical release they could provide. This isn't the same thing at all.

  Love was a strange thing. He didn't understand it. It started with caring about a person, wanting to be with her. But there was no end to how far it could go. He found himself thinking about far more than Daisy's body or the physical pleasure they could give each other. He thought of nights beyond tonight, days, mornings and evenings as well. In fact, there seemed to be no end to how far in the future his thoughts extended, and all of them included Daisy.

  That shouldn't have surprised him. She had caused him to abandon his search for gold. He had effectively put his dreams on hold to help her. He had never thought it would happen, but here he was, proof that it had.

  If he was going to make sure she continued to be all right, he'd better do something about those rustlers. He knew she expected to go with him, but he'd feel better going alone. He wouldn't have to worry about anything happening to her. The rustlers probably weren't expecting trouble, but he'd never known any who weren't willing to fight for their stolen property. Daisy had adapted to her new life with remarkable quickness, but she wasn't ready for a gun battle. With a little luck, he could have the cows back before she woke.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Tyler eased himself out of bed. He wanted to stay, to let the cows take care of themselves, but he couldn't.

  The cold air bit into his bare skin. He dressed with more than ordinary haste and saddled his horse. Daisy did not stir. He had a momentary qualm at leaving her unprotected, but pushed it aside. She would be safer alone than with him.

  The ride to the small canyon took less than ten minutes. Tyler was pleased to find half the canyon in deep shadow. If the rustlers woke, they'd have a hard time shooting at someone they couldn't see.

  Tyler used his rope to lower the corral bars without dismounting. It was a simple matter to start the cattle moving toward the opening. It was even easier to start them down the trail. They were just as anxious as he to return to their familiar feeding grounds.

  Tyler would have liked to take the rustlers horses as well, but they were hobbled next to a tiny cabin. It would be virtually impossible to run them off without waking at least one rustler. As it was, one of them must have been a light sleeper. Tyler had just reached the mouth of the canyon when he heard a shout from the cabin. Seconds later a rifle shot spit into the night and a bullet smacked into a rock high on the canyon wall. Letting out a yell, Tyler drove his horse right into the cattle.

  They didn't need much encouragement. They headed down the trail as fast as they could go.

  * * * * *

  Daisy jerked awake. Before she could wonder what had waked her, a shot echoed through the night. She turned to Tyler only to find he wasn't there. Neither was his horse.

  He had gone after the cows by himself. She listened intently and was able to make out the sound of pounding hooves. He must have the cows. The rustlers were after him. Daisy didn't have time to be angry about his leaving her. She had to do something.

  Using all the speed of which she was capable, she threw on her clothes. It was useless to think of saddling her horse. They would be past her before she could get the saddle cloth in place. She ran to her saddle, but as she reached for her rifle, she remembered Rio telling her if it was ever absolutely essential to stop someone, she was to use her shotgun.

  She snatched up the shotgun, reached in her saddlebags for some extra shells, and raced from the camp. The trail passed about a hundred yards from where they slept. She reached it just as Tyler swept by driving the cattle before him like a drunken cowboy riding into town on a Saturday night. She knew the rustlers would be close behind.

  She had never faced any kind of criminal before, but she had to stop them from catching Tyler. He had a head start, but he wouldn't be able to stay ahead of them without abandoning the cattle. She knelt to the ground just in time to see the two rustlers round a bend in the trail up ahead. It was useless to attempt to warm them she was going to shoot if they didn't pull up. They wouldn't even hear her.

  She raised the shotgun to her shoulder and took aim as best she could. When the rustlers were about twenty-five yards away, she pulled the trigger. Two things happened.

  Screaming in shock and pain as the pieces of buckshot bit into their hides, the rustlers' horses came to an abrupt halt, rearing and backing into each other. The rustlers, unprepared for this surprise attack, lost control of their mounts.

  The shotgun's recoil knocked Daisy flat on the ground. Only then did she remember Rio had warned her about the kick. Struggling to gather her senses, she scrambled for the shotgun and propped herself against a small pine. A second shot put a load of buckshot into the rustlers.

  Before she could open the shotgun, eject the spent shells, reach into her saddle bags for the extras, and shove them into the empty chambers, a rifle shot split the air. One of the rustlers sagged in the saddle. Another shot sent the second rustler tumbling to the ground.

  Tyler rode past.

  Daisy scrambled to her feet. By the time she reached the fallen men, Tyler had disarmed them. One had been shot in the shoulder, the other in the leg.

  "Not very good shooting," he said. "If I had been Hen, they'd both be dead."

  "What are we going to do with them?"

  "Take them to the sheriff in Albuquerque."

  Daisy held the horses as Tyler remounted the men and tied them to their saddles. She even managed to hold her tongue while she helped him break camp. But once they were on the trail, the rustlers and the cows ahead of them, she could hold back her anger no longer.

  "Why did you go off by yourself?"

  Tyler didn't try to avoid her gaze. He expected an explosion at any moment, and from the look in her eye, he was about to get it. "I didn't want you to get hurt."

  "And if they had caught you in the canyon?"

  "I could shoot my way out."

  "You weren't doing very well when you raced by here."

  "I was heading for a narrow pass a couple of miles ahead. I could have held them off there."

  "And left me back here. How was I supposed to get through?"

  She wasn't going to like his answer. "You were supposed to wait until I came back for you."

  She glared at him, her eyes incandescent. "And how was I supposed to know that? You didn't tell me."

  "If I had, you wouldn't have stayed here."

  "That's no reason." Daisy's anger burst out like water from an artesian well. "Those are my cattle. Any decision concerning what to do about them should be my decision."

  "But you don't know anything about fighting rustlers. You nearly killed yourself with that shotgun."

  "That's beside the point. You had no right to make my decisions for me. I'm not hurt any more, and I'm not your patient."

  Just like a woman. Let her get by one danger, and the fact that it existed isn't important anymore. Didn't she understand he
would be willing to endure anger one hundred times worse than this before he would let her risk being killed? No, because he hadn't told her. "I couldn't take the chance."

  "Do you know why I decided not to marry Guy?"

  She had no idea how jealous he was of Guy Cochrane. Even now Tyler felt part of Daisy liked Guy better than she liked him. He thought once you loved somebody, you loved only them, you wanted to marry them. That's how it worked for his brothers. He didn't understand why that didn't work for Daisy. That's how it worked for him. That's why he had come down off the mountain and was trying so hard to understand her.

  "You don't love him," Tyler answered.

  "He wanted to make all my decisions for me. He would have expected me to be a model wife at social occasions. But the rest of the time, I would have been expected to stay home, have his children and run his household, but not be concerned with his business or what he did when he was away from home. Most important of all, he would have expected me to have no opinions."

  Tyler didn't want to suffocate her mind or keep her barefoot and pregnant. What she didn't seem to understand was rustlers wouldn't respect her property and person just because she was a woman. You'd think being shot at and having her house burned down would have convinced her of that.

  "I don't see--"

  "You never have. You think that just because you have my best interests at heart, it's different for you. But it's not. My father did that -- I didn't realize how much until he was killed -- but I'll never endure that again."

  Tyler stopped his horse and waited until Daisy came abreast of him. The narrow trail forced them so close their knees almost rubbed against each other. "Maybe Guy, your father, and I have a lot more in common than I would like to think," he said.

  "I don't see how you can say that."

  "I'm not trying to defend your father or Guy, but a man just naturally thinks he's supposed to take care of a woman. It's not that he doesn't think she can do it herself or that she's not smart enough. It's just his job. He wouldn't be a man if he didn't."

  "Do your brothers do that?"

  He laughed. "None better. You ought to hear Fern and Laurel on the subject." He sobered. "Maybe we do too much because our father did too little. My mother wanted all the care and protection you don't. She didn't get it, and it killed her. I guess that made us over protective."

  "I'm sorry about your mother," Daisy said, thrown a little off-stride by his unexpected disclosure, "but I'm not like her."

  She didn't see. She didn't understand. She was so blinded by one fear she couldn't see anything else. Maybe the same problem affected him. "But I know so much more about so many things than you do."

  "I know that. And I appreciate your taking the time to help me, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to turn my life over to you. Talk to me, explain things, try to convince me you're right."

  "You never listen to me."

  "Do you ever listen to me?"

  He thought he did. But did he really listen, or did he just hear what he wanted to hear? According to Hen he'd been doing that for years. Tyler hadn't paid any attention to what Hen said because he was just as bad, but maybe Hen could see the fault better because he had it himself.

  He'd better find out if he wanted Daisy to marry him. She was dead set against marrying anybody who would try to control her. Yet he couldn't just let her run loose without making sure she was safe. There had to be some place between the two extremes. Hen and Laurel had found it. So had Iris and Monty. He could, too. If he didn't, he'd lose Daisy.

  "You only remember the times I haven't listened to you," Daisy said. "You forget the hundreds of times I did exactly as I was told."

  Tyler realized she was right. "I don't do it intentionally. I'm so used to thinking things through on my own and then acting, I don't stop to think about consulting anybody else."

  "That's fine when you're living up on that mountain with your mules and that cougar, but it won't work here."

  It would be a radical departure for him. He wasn't sure he could do it, but he must.

  "Go back to your prospecting," Daisy said. "The branding is about done. Now that we've caught the rustlers, there's not much Rio and I can't handle."

  "You think you're ready to run this place on your own?"

  "Not completely, but I've got to start some time. As long as you're around, I'll depend on you."

  "That's because I know a lot about cows."

  "All the more reason to leave. I need to learn to recognize problems and think through to solutions. I won't do that with you here."

  "I'll stay until the branding's over."

  "See, this is just like every other time. You do what you want to do."

  "That's right," Tyler said. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to know you're safe, that you're happy. I want to marry you."

  Daisy turned her horse around. "That's something of a surprise. When did you decide gold, hotels, and solitude weren't enough?"

  He didn't like the brittle edge to her voice. He had never expected telling a woman he wanted to marry her would make her angry.

  "I guess I fell in love with you in the cabin. I guess that's why I didn't want you to leave. I didn't want anything to mess up my plans. I didn't want to be in love. I didn't know I wanted to marry you until a short time ago."

  "What made you decide?"

  "I guess not wanting to live without you."

  Daisy looked at him for a long while, but she seemed to be thinking more her own thoughts than of him. Whatever was going through her mind, it didn't make her happy. She showed none of the enthusiasm Tyler expected of a woman when a man asked her to marry him.

  "There was a time when I hoped you would ask me to marry you, a time when it was just about the only thing I dreamed of."

  Tyler didn't like the sound of that. Her voice was too flat, too impersonal. He didn't like the look in her eyes either. They were dull, closed, shuttered, like she had gone away.

  "Even though I didn't want to marry a man with gold fever," Daisy continued, "I probably would have accepted. I loved you too much.

  "But these last weeks have changed me. You're responsible for that. You told me I could be anything I wanted, that I didn't have to depend on a man to be a person. I didn't believe you. I was too scared. I'd never been taught to think of being on my own. That's why I almost married Guy. Then you came back and forced me to consider my only other option -- myself. Well, I did. But in doing so, I freed myself from the necessity of depending on any man. And that includes you."

  "But you said you loved me."

  "I do. I always will, but I love my freedom as well."

  "But there has to be a way for us to be married without you feeling suffocated."

  "Maybe, but I don't think you're ready to look for it. Besides, you're doing an awful lot of guessing for a man on the verge of making such an important change in his life. I want a man to know his own mind, not guess about what he feels. I want a husband who won't think of me as someone who messed up his life."

  "I didn't mean it that way."

  "Maybe not, but until you can say it so it sounds different, you can't expect me to believe you mean anything else."

  Tyler leaned out of the saddle, pulled her to him, and kissed her hard. "Is that different enough?"

  Daisy tapped down a desire to push the whole conversation aside and throw herself into Tyler's arms. "I'm not going to deny the physical attraction between us, but it's not going to change my mind. I waited too long for this chance to mess it up now."

  With that, Daisy turned her horse and started back down the trail. It took Tyler a moment to recover sufficiently to follow. That was about as firm a no as a man could get. It hadn't been delivered in anger or any other surplus of emotion. It had been stated deliberately and coherently.

  She meant what she said.

  Much to his surprise, Tyler found himself smiling. His brothers would give half of what they owned to have heard that. But he was smiling because o
f Daisy. Damn, if he didn't love her even more for turning him down. It didn't make sense. He ought to be outraged, to be mad enough to leave her on the spot, but she had mistaken her man if she thought she could get rid of him that easily.

  He had gone through hell falling in love, but now he liked it. It wasn't at all what he'd expected. He didn't feel even the least bit depressed. In fact, as she watched Daisy riding ahead of him, he felt more alive than at any time in his whole life.

  He had always been one to pursue his goals with single-minded purpose. He wanted Daisy a lot more than the gold, more than the hotels if it came to that. He didn't know how much he could change, but he was going to find out. He was also going to find a way to show her being cared for and protected had nothing to do with suffocation.

  * * * * *

  Daisy spurred her horse up a steep incline. She didn't panic or feel uneasy in the saddle when the sorrel scrambled for its footing on the loose gravel. She was proud of the riding skills she had acquired during the last few weeks. She was also pleased that after a day in the saddle she could dismount without having her legs give out from under her. Life wasn't all that bad even if she was the only woman in New Mexico who was six feet tall and her hair was disgracefully short.

  She had almost forgotten about it. It didn't matter out here. She didn't have to worry about putting it up in a tight bun or trying to cover it with a hat. She simply ran a comb through it and put a hat on top of it. Nobody seemed to notice. Nobody cared.

  She loved it.

  Looking out over her land, knowing her cattle were branded, knowing the rustlers were on warning, made her feel proud. For the first time in her life, she had an identity in her life and in her own mind. She wasn't just somebody's daughter. She didn't need to be somebody's wife. She was Daisy Singleton, owner of the Noble Ranch.

  She was taking a look around before heading back to Albuquerque to find a carpenter to build her house. She had intended to build down near the river as her mother wanted, but she liked the view her father prized so much.

  She found herself wanting to ask Tyler's advice.